But it only lasted a mont.
A few minutes later, Wen Qiao leaned back her head, bumping against Fu Jinghen’s shoulder. Then she pointed towards the image in the mirror, tilting her head slightly, "Take a look, we look so well-matched standing together."
Fu Jinghen glanced at the mirror and didn’t speak, but he didn’t deny it either.
Wen Qiao didn’t mind. She recalled an unanswered question from before and asked again, "You still haven’t told , how did you co here?"
What an incessant curiosity.
Fu Jinghen’s fingers threaded through Wen Qiao’s hair, flicking his wrist so the warm air could reach the inner layers of her hair.
The young girl’s hair was fine and soft, a sign of good fortune.
He replied, "I had so business around here."
"Oh," Wen Qiao nodded, "So you just happened to stop by to see ..."
"...."
Fu Jinghen didn’t respond, knowing from his understanding of Wen Qiao, what she was about to say was the real point.
"I thought you ca because you saw the rumors online and were worried I might be upset. But now, it seems I’ve been wishful thinking again."
With her hair dry, Fu Jinghen turned off the hairdryer and took another look in the mirror. Wen Qiao was pouting, her displeasure written all over her face.
Fu Jinghen shifted his gaze away and unplugged the hairdryer, his voice indifferent, "I have never believed those rumors online."
"Uh..."
His arm was resting on the cabinet where the hairdryer was placed. Wen Qiao darted into the space between him and the cabinet, making it look as if Fu Jinghen had enveloped her in his embrace.
"Not believing the rumors online..." Wen Qiao drew out her words, repeating what Fu Jinghen had said, then blinked, "Does that an I can interpret it as you trusting , and that’s why you don’t believe those rumors?"
Fu Jinghen looked down at her. The small woman’s height barely reached his chin. At this mont, she was looking up at him, her eyes collecting the bathroom light, exceptionally bright, as if she wanted to draw in anyone who t her gaze into a pool of clear spring water.
"Sure," Fu Jinghen lowered the arm he had on the cabinet, releasing Wen Qiao from his "enclosure," and casually averted his eyes, "Even without , given your previous taste, it’s impossible you would fancy soone old enough to be your father."
Wen Qiao: "?"
What do you an even without you?
So you think you’re the unsurpassable peak for , huh?
"Heh," Wen Qiao chuckled dryly, "President Fu, you really are full of yourself."
He realized that Wen Qiao seed to particularly favor the scent of roses; her shampoo, body wash, and even perfu carried the fragrance of roses.
When Fu Jinghen went to get her pajamas from the bedroom, upon opening the closet, he was greeted by a burst of rose fragrance that was refreshing and not at all cloying.
Having dried her hair, Fu Jinghen’s body had also picked up a bit of her shampoo’s scent. Wen Qiao caught the sll of roses on his shirt. She moved closer, resting her head on his shoulder and taking a deep breath, her voice slightly surprised, "Fu Jinghen, you sll like my shampoo."
As she spoke, she sniffed again, "And mixed with your scent, it’s actually quite nice."
Fu Jinghen had a fir scent mixed with a hint of tobacco. Wen Qiao didn’t usually like smokers, but she unexpectedly didn’t mind the sll of smoke on Fu Jinghen.
Fu Jinghen extended a finger emotionlessly against her forehead, creating so distance between them, and brought the conversation back to a serious note, "I might not believe the rumors, but that doesn’t an other people will trust you
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